by Abbi Cook
As soon as the words leave my mouth, I regret being so honest with her. Pushing myself up, I look her dead in the eye. “Don’t tell anyone I said that. Got it?”
Sophie nods. “That’s why I was asking. I don’t know the whole story between you and that Tap guy, but I understood that you want to be the favorite in your boss’s eyes.”
Her ability to understand that amazes me. “What makes you think that?”
With a shrug, she lets out a tiny laugh and then says, “I don’t know. I’m just a person who pays attention to interpersonal dynamics. You and Tap clearly don’t like one another, but even more, you’re fighting to be the top guy with Duke. At least that’s how it looked back at his office.”
“Then you definitely don’t want to let him in on how much pain I’m in or he’ll hand you back to that asshole Tap. I’m not exaggerating when I say you’ll be lucky to be alive once he’s done with you.”
A sly smile slowly raises the sides of her mouth, and she gets a look in her eyes that surprises me. “Then I guess I’ll keep my mouth shut if your boss shows up since I don’t want to be sent to Tap.”
“For an art student, you’re pretty smart, little girl.”
Her smile fades, like she’s disappointed. “Could you not call me that?”
“How old are you?” I ask, curious why the nickname I’m using bothers her so much.
“I’m twenty-one, so I’m not a little girl anymore.”
My gaze drifts down from her face to her T-shirt and shorts as my mind fills with curiosity about what her body looks like underneath them. “Twenty-one, huh? Sounds young to me.”
“How old are you?” she asks, tearing me out of a sweet fantasy about her tits.
I consider lying to her but decide against it. Everything else about the two of us here isn’t the truth, but I’ll give her that small concession.
“Thirty.”
“And still you want to call me little girl? You’re not that much older than me.”
“Nine years is a long time, Sophie. You probably won’t even recognize your twenty-one-year-old self when you’re my age.”
My use of her name brings the smile back, lighting up her face. “See? You said it right that time.”
I feel sleep taking me over, so I don’t want to continue discussing this anymore. Closing my eyes, I say, “Then I guess that’s what I’ll have to call you from now on. Little girl’s out and Sophie’s in. How’s that?”
Her answer fades into the recesses of my mind, and then a moment later, I drift off to a place where pain doesn’t exist.
Chapter Five
Sophie
In the middle of our conversation, he falls silent, and then he’s asleep moments later. I keep the washcloth gently pressed to his leg for a few minutes more, just in case he’s not deep in sleep, careful not to make the pain come back again because he’s much nastier when he’s hurting.
After ten minutes pass, I gently pull the washcloth away and hold my breath. King doesn’t move, so I sit down on the bed as carefully as possible so as not to wake him and let out a heavy sigh. My emotions swirl inside me, but more than anything else, I’m exhausted after all that’s happened tonight.
Hanging my head, I try to sort out my thoughts about this night. I stupidly let myself get grabbed by a rival of my uncle’s, something I’ll regret for the rest of my life, assuming I live through this. That’s not something I’m banking on yet. My strength will only take me so far, and the rest relies on the man lying next to me.
Or worse, if King is too hurt, on that Tap asshole.
I cringe as I remember his knife slicing through King’s pants, cutting the skin beneath and drawing blood instantly as I watched in horror and their boss laughed like he enjoyed their barbaric show. Then when King beat him until he lay lifeless on the floor like some battered ragdoll, I had to turn away it was so awful. I’ve seen men fight before, but I’ve never seen someone so hell bent on causing another person to suffer like King wanted to do to Tap.
He’s just as vicious as the rest of them, no matter what he thinks.
Looking up at his face, his expression belies that, though. His dark lashes rest on his cheeks, the kind of eyelashes women pay good money to possess and men seem to always have naturally. I don’t know why I didn’t notice them before this when I studied how beautiful his eyes were earlier. Maybe because their color is so unique I didn’t pay attention to anything else.
My gaze drifts down to his mouth—the mouth that has been so nasty to me tonight. It looks hard, but a closer look tells me his lips appear soft. I have to fight the urge to reach out and touch them with my fingertip to see if I’m right.
His skin is tan above the dark beard just coming in along his jaw and around his mouth. For the first time, I notice a tattoo on the back of his neck. It joins with those across his shoulders and seems different than the ones that cover his arms. I can’t make out the detail, but if it’s like those I can see, it’s some kind of all-black rope design dotted with shapes like triangles and circles. I’ve seen guys with tattoos all through high school, but none of them looked like this.
Even more, none of those boys looked like King. He’d tower over them, dwarfing their bodies like a man would boys. Underneath those tattoos exists the body of a fighter, or at least that’s what I imagine he looks like fully naked. Maybe that’s because the only thing I’ve seen him do other than lie in this bed is attack someone. Perhaps he’s just someone who spends hours at the gym to get a body so cut with muscles.
I don’t know. All I do know is he felt hard against me when he led me back here hours ago, and now as I watch his broad chest rise and fall with every breath he takes, I can’t help but wonder what his body feels like with nothing covering him.
As much as I wish I could stop myself, I continue to study him, dropping my gaze below his chest. Hard peaks and valleys ripple across his abs, firm muscles I can’t look away from. I imagine what they’d feel under my touch, his skin quivering when I glide over sensitive areas near his hipbones.
I feel my cheeks heat as sensual thoughts fill my mind, but I don’t stop looking at him. He moves, tearing me from my fantasy, and I see something strange under the sheet where it hits near his hips. After watching for nearly a minute to see if he’ll wake, I gingerly lift the sheet to see what that odd shape outlined underneath could be.
My breath catches in my chest at what I see. No longer hard, his cock is long and thick even now, but even more amazing is it’s pierced with two silver studs, one on each side of the head. I stare in shock as I’ve never seen anything like this in my life.
I can’t help but wonder what it feels like when he’s inside a woman. What do those smooth studs feel like when he’s thrusting his cock inside you? Do they hurt? Do they touch parts of you that can’t be reached any other way?
My mind fills with downright erotic thoughts of what it must be like to be fucked by him. I imagine he’s a hard lover, much like the rest of him. He doesn’t make love or just have sex.
No, he fucks and fucks hard. He takes a woman for his own. Those large hands of his hold her to him as he rams his cock inside her, possessing every inch of her inside and out. That mouth that spews such cruel things speaks words that make a woman know she’s his, her pussy his and his alone to do what he chooses.
A tiny moan escapes my lips, and a second later, King’s hand runs over his abs and down his leg. I quickly drop the sheet and look for the washcloth. Hurrying to the bathroom, I run it under the hot water and hope I can get back before he realizes it isn’t on his leg anymore.
I see his eyes are still closed when I walk out into the bedroom, so I breathe a sigh of relief and sit down on the bed next to him. Pressing the cloth to the outside of his thigh, I’m happy when he doesn’t move.
A second later, he lets out a chuckle. “Like what you saw?”
Horror rushes through me at the sound of his words. He knew I was looking at his body! My face feels like it’s on fire, a
nd I turn away just as he opens his eyes and stares up at me like he knows every wicked thought I had about him as he slept.
“I thought…I just saw something odd…I didn’t mean to wake you up,” I say, my words staggering out of my mouth.
Turning back to focus on the washcloth and his leg, I see out of the corner of my eye he’s wearing a smile that’s utterly sexual. It makes his mouth look like nothing as awful as he’s said before could come out of it again.
“I know what you saw. I asked if you like it.”
Touching my cheek with my free hand, I feel heat worse than any fever I’ve ever experienced. I can only hope I haven’t turned beet red to match the temperature of my skin.
As casually as I can, I say with a shrug, “If you’ve seen one penis, you’ve seen them all, to be honest.”
But he sees right through my attempt to be nonchalant. “So you’ve seen others that were pierced before? Who’d have thought innocent little Sophie lived such a dangerous life.”
“Why do you want to make me out to be some untouched little girl who knows nothing about sex? Does that get you off or something?”
His smile grows even as he shakes his head. “There’s that smart mouth again. One of these times that’s going to get you in trouble,” he says in a low voice tinged with the threat of punishment.
And yet, all I can think of is how he must feel inside a woman with those piercings on that big cock.
I open my eyes and look around, unsure where I am for a few seconds. Scrubbing the sleep from my head, I feel someone next to me and look to see King still sleeping.
The sound of the floor creaking startles me, and I sit bolt upright on the bed. We aren’t alone. King’s boss stands a few feet away with a glint in his eyes that instantly frightens me. I don’t know how long he’s been there, and something tells me he’s not here just to check on how King is feeling.
Quickly, I shake his shoulder. “King, your boss is here. Wake up.”
He slowly opens his eyes and looks first at me for a moment. In them, I see a kindness in him I hadn’t seen before. It disappears a few seconds later, replaced by the hardness I’ve come to expect from him when he realizes his boss is standing there.
Pulling the blankets over his leg, he pushes himself up against the headboard as Duke comes over to the side of the bed. Towering over me, he says, “By the look of what I saw when I walked in, you’re feeling better. Ready to get back to work?”
“I’m ready. I’ll be right there.”
“Take your time. I want my best man at one hundred percent,” Duke says as he turns to leave.
King smiles, but I sense it’s forced when he laughs and says, “I’m fine. No worries, boss.”
Duke doesn’t seem to pick up on how much pain his best guy is in and leaves without another word. As soon as the door closes, King’s body sags back onto the bed as he lets out a low groan.
“Get the washcloth warm,” he orders, clearly in pain.
I do as I’m told and return less than a minute later to find him in a pair of boxer briefs sitting on the side of the bed, his head hung. Crouching down in front of him, I gently press the washcloth to his leg.
“You’re not ready to get out of bed. I wouldn’t be surprised if you can’t even walk.”
Shaking his head, he mumbles, “I’m fine. I’m just fine.”
When he tries to stand up, he falls back onto the bed, just as I assumed he would. I lean over to help him, but he barks, “Get off me!”
He angrily pushes me away, and I fall back onto the floor, hurting my arm. “Ow! I was just trying to help,” I cry out while pain radiates through my wrist.
“I don’t need your fucking help, little girl,” he snaps with all the anger he has inside him.
The second time he tries to stand up, he succeeds and limps away, leaving me sitting on the floor as he slams the door behind him. A spark of hope ignites inside me, and I rush over to see if he left it unlocked.
But I try the doorknob and it doesn’t move. The door’s locked from the outside.
Disappointed and raw from emotions too close to the surface, I collapse on the floor and let the tears come that I’ve been holding back ever since that fucker Tap grabbed a hold of me. I’m never getting out of this place. Whatever kindness I thought I saw in King’s eyes a few moments ago doesn’t exist.
He’s as vicious as any of the men my father warned me about for so long.
Chapter Six
King
Duke’s office is empty when I get there, and I silently thank the universe for not forcing me to perform my bullshit I’m fine act for a room full of people. I’m not fucking fine in any possible definition of that word. Not at all.
Pain radiates up toward my hip, taking my breath away for a moment, and then ebbs away. I grab hold of the doorframe to steady myself and hope I’m not shaking so anyone can see.
“How’s my best man doing today?” Duke asks in his most chipper voice as he walks out of the bathroom where fucking Stills probably infected me with some kind of skeevy disease when he sewed me back up the other night.
It’s an effort to tilt my head up to look at him, but I have to keep this façade up for now. I can’t risk Duke thinking I’m not able to do my job, just in case I didn’t fuck Tap up enough and he’s back on his feet.
“Ready to go, boss. What’s going on today?” I ask as a wave of pain rolls over me and I tighten my hold on the doorframe. Did my voice falter on the word today? I hope not.
He stops just before he reaches his desk and studies me for a long moment. Remaining perfectly still, I watch for any sign he knows how fucked up I truly feel, but he simply smiles and shakes his head.
“You’re one cool customer, King. Meanwhile, Tap is still laid up in bed. You really messed him up. I hear he just woke up, but there’s no way he can work anytime soon, I’m guessing.”
As Duke takes his seat, I force a laugh that makes my body feel like it’s splitting apart down the middle. “Pussy. He’s lucky I didn’t fuck him up even worse.”
Throwing his head back, Duke lets out a chuckle. “That’s why you’re the king, right?”
I nod, hating every fucking syllable of this small talk he seems interested in having with me today. Dane comes up behind me and brushes against my side on his way into the office. It takes every ounce of restraint in me to not spin him around and cold-cock him, but I stop myself. I can’t go around beating the hell out of people because I feel like shit or they’ll all figure out how bad I’m doing.
Holding out a sheet of paper, Duke says, “You and Dane go out and gather up these guys. Bring them back here. I’ll be waiting.”
Thankfully, Dane grabs the paper so I don’t have to walk across the office to get it, but I ask, “Anything we should look out for?”
“Nah. Just the usual types who need to be reminded of how the world works. They got a visit from Marsh and Stills the other day, but I feel like they need a face-to-face meeting to get my point across.”
“Got it.” Turning toward Dane, I push down the urge to scream from the pain in my thigh and nod toward the door. “Ready to go?”
With a shrug, he starts walking toward the hallway. “Sure. Let’s go. You driving or me?”
“You drive,” I answer as I take a step and the pain crushes me.
And then everything goes black.
My eyes open and I’m looking up at the doctor standing next to my bed with Duke right behind him. Both men stare down at me like they’re surprised to see me awake.
Unsure what the hell is going on, I follow the doctor’s gaze to the IV coming out of my right arm. Clearly, I didn’t know how fucking sick I was.
“King, you’ve got an infection. That’s what the IV is for.”
I nod but ignore him and say to Duke, “Tell Stills I’m going to get him for this.”
“Once we get this into you, we can take you off the IV and move you to antibiotics that won’t keep you in bed,” the doctor continues,
disregarding my joke.
“Leave it to you to not want to take a day off,” Duke says, shaking his head. “I want you to stay in bed with your pretty nurse until you’re better. No arguing this time either.”
He has no idea how bad I feel at this moment. I couldn’t argue if my life depended on it. Lifting the arm with the IV attached, I look up at the doctor. “Is this going to do anything for the pain because my leg feels like it’s being fucking ripped apart.”
Nodding, he smiles. “Yep. It should already be taking the edge off. Give it a few minutes and you’ll feel it. I’ll leave some painkillers too, just in case the pain gets too much.”
“Thanks, doc.”
After he leaves, Duke gives me a pat on the shoulder. “I’ll leave you to get well.”
I can’t let him go without making sure he knows I’ll be back to work as soon as I can. “Thanks, but it won’t take long. Now that the doctor is pumping me full of drugs, I’ll be up and around in no time. Just give me a day or two.”
“Just get better. I know you’re not anyone who’d ever slack off, so take your time and get back to one hundred percent. And I’ll be sure to tell Stills you’re going to want to talk to him.”
He leaves smiling, which means I’m still in a good place with him. I can’t afford to let this thing with my leg ruin everything I’ve worked so hard for. I won’t. Not because that asshole wanted to fuck me up with one of his bullshit knives.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Sophie cowering in the corner of the room. For a few minutes, I’d forgotten she was still here when I was busy with the doctor and Duke.
“Come here, little one. I need your help.”
She walks over to the side of my bed but says nothing, avoiding making eye contact with me. Did something happen with Duke while I was out of it?
It takes all the energy I can muster to sit up, and once I do, I feel like someone’s used my body as their own personal punching bag. “Help me get my clothes off. And don’t think you can run away. I’ll happily rip this thing out of my arm, and when I catch up with you, you’ll find out what happens when you make me angry.”